


His Kisses

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [16]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Forgive Me, I did this off a tumblr post I saw, I have noticed that I always write fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lots of kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 05:53:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3639186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Did you just kiss me on the cheek?” Ian asked, grinning from ear to ear.<br/>“No.” Mickey flips him off, smirking as he walked away towards the kitchen.</p><p>(12 places Mickey kisses on Ian's body, and for all of them he has a reason)</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> http://vegaisthesound.tumblr.com/post/114526369480/kisses-from-top-to-bottom - I was inspired by this post
> 
> Prompt me; im-an-angel-y0u-ass.tumblr.com

**What his kisses mean...**

 

_**A kiss on top of the head means he doesn't want you to worry...** _

 

“Shut the fuck up and take your pills bitch.” Mickey passes Ian his dose of med's for the day, knowing that Ian wasn't really interested in them at all. The redhead eyes them with hate, pure-fucking-loathing, and Mickey can see it. So he grabs his head, his fingers threading into the loose red strands, and kissed the top of his head. Hoping that Ian would understand that Mickey was here and he wasn't fucking leaving. He hoped that kiss, and ruffle of hair, would say the words Mickey hadn't said ; _I'm here, don't worry._

_._

_**A kiss on closed eyelids means he thinks You're beautiful...** _

Ian wakes up with a soft touch to his jaw, its slightly wet and sludgy but it sent shivers up his spine each time he felt it. Peeping through the slit of his lids, he saw Mickey pondering on his chest, his dopey grin that was contagious shattering over his face. The brunette was lightly pecking at Ian's skin, humming a soft tune as he appreciated his body. Mickey shifted higher and started on Ian's face, his lips kissing at his cheeks, his nose, his _mouth._ But most importantly, he dropped two kisses onto Ian's eyelids, his hand trailing down to Ian's side.

“Beautiful.” Ian barely hears Mickey whisper, he's not entirely sure if Mickey actually knows that Ian is awake. It didn't matter, Mickey Milkovich just called him _beautiful._

**_A kiss on your ear means he wants your attention..._ **

“...And then there was this massive explosion, like _massive._ I keep forgetting the main characters name, but _damn_ his ass looked good when he jumped off the back of the truck...” As usual, Ian's rambling about some new movie he and Debbie had gone to watch, _as usual,_ he would forget about the world around him until he had finished his story. Mickey could deal with this. He knew the tricks. “...then his _brother_ tried to kill him, plot twist or-fucking-what?..” Mickey hums, shifting himself closer to the redhead, as his talking Mickey begins to press kisses to the side of Ian's face, he instantly knows that the younger boy had felt it.

“...It was _so_ funny, like – _ah, fuck –_ like-like.” Ian tries to carry on, but Mickey's persistent kisses are at his ear, and Mickey always fucking knew that was his sensitive spot. Mickey continues his routine of lets-get-gallagher-horny, and grins against his ear as he pecks one last kiss. Ian gives up his story and pulls Mickey onto his lap.

“You think you're cute don't you?” He raises an eyebrow, getting a smug nod from his boyfriend. “Why didn't you just tell me to shut the fuck up?” He asks, wearily.

Mickey shrugs and smirks mischievously. “Where's the fun in that?” _That fucker._

**_A kiss on the cheek means he likes you..._ **

“Mickey, I'm going to work. Make sure you get to the Gallagher house at like eight, Fiona will bust your ass if you're late.” Ian shouts as he does one more check for his phone, keys and wallet. Adjusting his coat, he's ready to leave until he hears a heavy pad of feet and distant yelling. “Ay, Firecrotch, you forgot something!” It was Mickey, of course, he wasn't running but he seemed serious about Ian forgetting something.

“What is it? Shit, did I forget my work pass again, _damn_ it.” Ian groans, tilting his head back with frustration. When Mickey entered the living space, he came empty handed. Instead of passing him anything he grabbed Ian by the shirt and pulled him closer, planting a rough kiss against the redheads cheek. “Did you just kiss me on the cheek?” Ian asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“No.” Mickey flips him off, smirking as he walked away towards the kitchen.

_**A kiss on the nose means he's not taking you that seriously...** _

“..I just think we should go on more dates, Mickey. Tommy's is not a fucking option either, we eat in there _every_ week.” Ian rants along, as Mickey is sprawled against his chest. He had no idea what spurred it on, but all Mickey wanted to do was go to sleep. “Can we just go somewhere nice instead of eating hot-dogs for the rest of our lives?”

Mickey hums into his chest, not really paying attention due to his tired state, three rounds of sex takes it out of a person, you know. “Calm your fucking tits, we can go on some fancy-ass date.” Before he rests his head back down he kisses the tip of Ian's nose, the skin cold against his lips, _that should do it._ Ian smiles, flushed face, and Mickey wants to kiss the rest of him, but at this point he was falling asleep against Ian's nipple and that's how it was going to be.

_**A kiss on closed lips means he wants to get closer to you...** _

“You're like a fucking wet rat.” Mickey laughs from the side of Ian, they were both gasping for air after nearly beating the shit out of each other, then they noticed what fucking idiots they were being. The brunette turns on his heel and stares into Ian's eyes, his hand on the side of his face he speaks and then pulls the redhead in for a kiss. They move their tongues together, pushing their chests closer with their hands not knowing where to go. Mickey kisses more deeper, he wants to get deeper, he knows Ian is scared of not feeling anything but he's making sure now he will get close enough to let Ian feel _him._

_**A kiss on your open mouth means he wants to get lost in you...** _

They are high off their asses, smoking the weed Iggy had copped for them. Iggy had passed out a couple of hours earlier against the carpet, leaving Ian and Mickey on their own sat in the middle of the front room. Ian is laughing, like _really_ laughing, Mickey had recounted the story of when he got shot in the ass, for their first kiss, and Ian had been full on belly laughing for the past couple of minutes. Mickey should have been angry but he wasn't, he couldn't stop staring at Ian's lips and how they opened each time he giggled to himself.

“Fuck it.” Mickey muttered, slurring, he jumped from the floor and pounced on Ian catching his lips through the middle of his laughter. The redhead laughed into Mickey's mouth in shock, before he giggled some more and it even got Mickey going a little bit.

_**A kiss on the neck means he wants to fuck you, like right now...** _

“ _Fuck,_ Mickey.” Ian cried out in a moan as Mickey flicked his wrist each time he rubbed Ian's cock. Mickey's hovering over him, kissing against his lips, until he drops his mouth and leans into the access point of sensitivity just at Ian's neck. As soon as Mickey's lips touch the soft skin of Ian's neck, the redhead is arching his back against the bed, turning his face so Mickey could get to it better. Mickey leans further down, sucking against the sweet spot, until he whispers against the skin. “You need to fuck me, now.” Ian had never compiled so quickly.

_**A kiss on the shoulder means your his...** _

“I'm sorry, Mick. I didn't know what kind of creep he was, I didn't know he would try _this._ I'm just so fucking glad you came in time or, I, or – he.” Ian stutters his words out, hiding his face into Mickey's chest. Some guy from the diner had tried it on with Ian, more forceful than anyone would expect, especially when he had pointed a knife into Ian's stomach. Mickey nearly killed the guy, he _wanted_ to, when he had walked in and Ian was pushed against the wall, his shaking with tears and his body nearly getting sliced, he pounced on the guy like a mental. All Mickey could do was rock the boy in his arms, hoping that he got the message. Protectively, Mickey kisses at Ian's shoulder. _Gallagher is fucking mine and no one is going to fuck that up_

_**A kiss on the wrist means you are precious to him...** _

Mickey had only just noticed them, Ian had tried to hide them for weeks, the _scars._ The permant marsks against Ian's skin that he had inflicted himself to cope. Mickey felt his face grow hot when he came across them, lines of cuts that had healed over on Ian's wrist. He wanted Ian to know what he didn't _have_ to do that, even if it was the only way to feel, but he knew his words couldn't just change that. So one night, when they were in bed Mickey draws Ian's wrist up to his lips and kissing against the fading scars against his wrist. He could feel Ian silently crying beside him, but he continued. Ian needed to know that he was precious to Mickey.

_**A kiss on the palm means he's yours, and your his...** _

“So what should we call ourselves?” Ian asks out of the blue, Mickey is fiddling with the television channels, trying to find something for the both of them to watch.

“What the fuck do you mean?” Mickey asks, eyes not leaving the screen. Ian huffs and grabs the remote, he chucks it onto the coffee table and grabs Mickey's hand. Hiestantly he answers, “Like our _lable?_ Boyfriend...couple...partner.. I mean what do I call you when someone asks me?”

Mickey thinks out it for a couple of seconds, Ian's eyes had widened with curiosity. “Yours.”

“Huh?” Ian is confused, giving Mickey that adorable wandering look.

Mickey flips Ian's hand and raises it to his lips, he kissing against the soft skin of his palm and softly says. “You tell that fucker that I'm _yours.”_

_**A kiss on the forehead means he loves you...** _

“Sorry I'm late.” Mickey barely whispers, Ian's looking at him like the world would crumble any minute; like he would crumble any minute, and Mickey fucking hates it. Stripping from his clothes, he doesn't say anything else, he just brings Ian closer. Ian's staring at him, asking the silent question of _Are you going to leave me?_ And Mickey knows in himself that was something he could never do. So he places a kiss on Ian's forehead, hoping that the lack of words could be made up with a kiss. He felt it in his heart, he had felt it _all_ day through the countless beers he had downed, to the ounces of coke he had sniffed, he still felt it. Debbie was right, he couldn't drink Ian away..not now he fucking _loved him._


End file.
